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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28701564">Words can’t suffice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker_bucky/pseuds/Parker_bucky'>Parker_bucky</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Safety net [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abused Harry Potter, Anxious Harry Potter, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter Whump, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Hogwarts Second Year, Hurt Harry Potter, Mentor Severus Snape, Non-Consensual Touching, Severitus | Severus Snape is Harry Potter's Parent, Slytherin Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:54:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28701564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parker_bucky/pseuds/Parker_bucky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The new defense against the dark art’s teacher isn’t exactly what Harry expected. With Harry’s ongoing detentions scheduled with the professor, he finds that there is more to people than meets the eye.</p><p>My own take on the Gilderoy Lockhart sexually assaults/abuses Harry Potter trope</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy &amp; Harry Potter, Harry Potter &amp; Severus Snape, Hermione Granger &amp; Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Safety net [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2119113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>395</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello lovelies!! I’m so happy you came to check out my story. I’m planning on having this be a 4 chapter ficlet, and the next chapter will be up in the next week or so. For more updates on the story follow my tumblr: Parker-Bucky  </p><p> </p><p>Tw for this chapter: sexual assault of a minor</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The crisp air of September wafts through the open windows of Hogwarts as students walk to their next class, the chattering sound of voices echoing off the walls. The hallways glimmer with a shining light from the morning sun, a soft glow settling over the bustling school. Two slytherins and a gryffindor walk together out of the great hall, slowly making their way towards the Defense against the Dark arts classroom door.</p><p>“I can’t believe Lockhart is our new defense teacher,” Draco exclaims. “This cannot be legal!”</p><p>“He’s not all bad.” Hermione shrugs.</p><p>“You’re just saying that because you think he’s cu-uuute.” He sings.</p><p>Hermionie punches him in the arm. “Do not!” Harry laughs, almost tripping over Draco as he stumbles.</p><p>The trio trails into class, sitting in the middle row of desks. Harry sits in the aisle, Draco the middle and Hermionie on the end. Other students trail in, the classroom filling with chatter and excitement. Silence fills the room as Lockhart enters from his office, stalking to the front of the room.</p><p>“Let me introduce you to your new defense against the dark arts teacher...me.” Draco and Harry glance at each other, holding in a laugh. “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-times winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award- but I don’t talk about that.” The girls in the front giggle, resting their head on their palms. He flashes them his most-charming smile and they sigh. Harry rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Now, before we start, I’d like to get more into the...personal side of things.” Lockhart glances over at Harry, a glint glowing in his eye. “I’d like you all to come on up to see these vicious creatures up close and personal, and, of course, I’d like to see all your pretty faces.” He winks at Harry, holding his gaze on him for a few seconds before continuing. “Hup to it everyone!”</p><p>The girls in the front jump up from their seats, skipping over to his desk. Harry steps to the back of the line, Draco and Hermione trailing behind him. “I wonder what’s up there!” Hermione exclaims, pushing herself on her tiptoes. Harry peers over the shoulders in front of him, eyeing some sort of rattling cage covered with a soft, silken sheet.</p><p>“Now- be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind. You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. I must ask you not to scream. It might… provoke them!” He pulls the sheet off and the cage full of pixies rattle at their futile attempt to escape. The girls in the front gasp in horror, looking over to their professor.</p><p>“Don’t worry my dears, it is perfectly safe! Now come on up and say hello. Reach your hand out just like so, and they’ll reach back, but only if they feel you can be trusted.” He holds his hand out and the pixies pull away, refusing to touch him. “Well..let’s continue on, shall we?” He jesters at the line, ushering the first student toward.</p><p>“That was weird,” Harry mutters.</p><p>The students come up one by one to hold their hand out. For most, the pixies reach back, but don't quite touch. The cage continues to rattle in their attempted escape. “They’re just pixies, I don’t understand what’s so exciting.” Draco sighs, exasperated.</p><p>Oh come on Draco, don’t be such a downer. I’m next!” Hermione gasps in excitement. Harry watches as Hermione reaches forward. Slowly, one of the pixies reaches back. She laughs in excitement as the pixie grasps at her finger. She lets go, letting it crawl back into the cage.</p><p>Harry reaches the front and holds his hand out. The pixie eagerly reached back, gnawing on his finger. A hand lands on his shoulder, squeezing it tight.</p><p>“Look at you Harry! A natural my boy, well done!” Harry glances up at the professor, a smile growing on his face. The hand on his shoulder falls down, brushing against his. He quickly pulls his hand away from the professor’s, his cheeks blushing.</p><p>“Come on Harry, move on with it!” Draco pushes against his back, ushering him out of the way. Harry feels eyes on him and looks back to find Lockhart quickly looking away, pretending to help Draco with his pixie. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed together.</p><p>The rest of class goes by in a blur and soon reaches its end. Harry packs up his notes, trailing after Draco. He can feel someone’s eyes on him again, but he’s too afraid to look back.</p><p>——————</p><p>Harry and Draco walk from the great hall to Transfiguration, chatting about the newest quidditch year. “Maybe I’ll be the new chaser!” Draco exclaims, clearly excited.</p><p>“You’d be great at that! You should definitely try out.” Harry suddenly stops, another group of students colliding into him in the hall. “Oh shit! I forgot my Transfiguration book!” Harry turns and books it to the dungeons, running through the Slytherin common room and up to his dorm. He digs through his trunk, searching for his book.</p><p><em>“I cannot be late!”</em> He looks up to find his book sitting on the nightstand. He quickly grabs it and runs down the stairs, rushing to Transfiguration.</p><p>By the time he made it, class had already started. He bursts in, gasping for air. “I’m sorry I’m late professor,” he sucks in a breath, “I forgot my textbook.”</p><p>McGonagall sends a small glare his way. “Detention Mr.Potter, for not only being late, but interrupting my class with your sudden outburst. See me after class, please.” Harry’s cheeks grow red in embarrassment as he stalks over to his table, Draco stifling a laugh.</p><p>“S’not funny,” he whispers. Draco shoves his shoulder, leaning into him.</p><p>“As I was saying...today, we will be going over some of the skills we learned last year, a touch-up, so to speak. We shall start with basic transfigurations. The list is on the board. Go ahead and get to work, you can consult the textbooks if needed.”</p><p>After his many failed attempts to transform a teacup into a chair, Harry sighed in defeat. He switched to the next project, turning the feather into a piece of parchment, but was quickly interrupted. “It looks like we’ve run out of time everyone. Please continue to touch up on these skills if you have not mastered them yet. You are dismissed.” The class bustles with activity as everyone packs up their books, their last class of the day finally over.</p><p>Draco nudges Harry’s shoulder. “I’ll wait for you outside.” He nods back in confirmation and watches Draco go walk out the door. Sighing, he turns towards the front of the room.</p><p>Harry trudged up to McGonagall’s desk, a grimace on his face. “Mr.Potter, I will be adding another detention on top of those you’ve already received from the start of term.” Harry grimaced at the thought of the beat-up car. “You shall help Professor Lockhart write out his fan mail tonight.” Harry’s heart drops to his stomach. “Hopefully that will help you remember not to interrupt class again. You are dismissed.” Harry sighs and walks out the door, whispering obscurities under his breath.</p><p>“What’s McGonagall got you doing for detention?” Draco looks over at him expectantly.</p><p>“I’ll be helping Lockhart respond to <em>fan mail.</em>” He spits out, clearly annoyed.</p><p>“<em>Fan mail?</em> Oh, that’s priceless!” Draco cackles in delight. Harry clearly thinks this is anything but funny.</p><p>“There’s something about Lockhart that’s just not...right. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s just a feeling.” Harry grinds out, unsure of how to explain.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Draco looks back at him, a worried look on his face. “Is something wrong?”</p><p>“No I- well...it’s nothing, never mind.” He shrugs and looks away, embarrassed. “Let’s go back to the common room, I’ll need time to do my homework before detention.” Draco watches him walk away for a moment before trailing behind, their steps echoing in the hallway.</p><p>——-</p><p>The great hall bustles with life as dinner commences, the clinking of cutlery echoing off the walls. Harry reaches over, plopping some mashed potatoes and gravy onto his plate. An owl swoops over their table and drops a scroll onto Harry’s plate, landing right on Harry’s gravy pile.</p><p>“That must be from Lockhart,” Draco says as he reaches over to grab a piece of chicken off a platter, tossing it onto Harry’s plate. “You’ll need the energy for sorting through all that <em>fan mail.</em>” Blaise snickers from beside him. his eyes, Harry reaches for the scroll, unwinding it’s bounds and reading.</p><p>
  <em>My office after dinner. Don’t bother bringing anything, you’ll have all you need there. I am most excited to see you.</em><br/>
<em>-GL</em>
</p><p>“My detention is after dinner tonight,” he states, picking at the food on his plate. He wasn’t feeling too hungry anymore. Draco glanced at him curiously before nodding, a small smile on his face.</p><p>Dinner came to a close sooner than he liked. Bidding his friends goodbye, Harry walked down the halls and to find the Defense classroom ajar. He peered around the corner to see Lockhart at his desk. The professor glances up, sporting his dazzling smile.</p><p>“Harry! Come in, come in.” Harry walks over to his desk and sits down across from him. Piles of letters and photos filled the desk, a teapot and tray sitting in the midst. “Please, have some tea. I’ve already poured some for you.” He gestured to the cup near his seat. Harry reached over, taking a small sip. He wasn’t quite thirsty, but it would be rude not to drink any, right?</p><p>“Now, today we’ll be sorting through all my fan mail. Certainly something you’re quite used to, am I right?” Harry shook his head, confused. Taking another sip of his tea, he cringed. The tea had...quite the taste.</p><p>“What kind of tea is this sir? It’s quite...interesting.” Harry reached over to the pile, starting to sort through letters and photos.</p><p>“Ah yes, a homemade herbal tea, my creation! It’s supposed to have a strong calming property, to keep you..comfortable.” He looked up from his writings to give Harry a small smile. Harry shrugged off his outer robe, feeling overheated. He pretended not to notice Lockhart watching him take it off.</p><p>They continued to work in silence, Harry putting photos on one side of the desk and letters on the other. He could feel the professor’s eyes on him and anxiety pools in his stomach. “So...Harry,” the professor broke the silence, “tell me about yourself.”</p><p>“I...what would you like to know sir?” Harry glances up through his fringe to see the professor already watching him.</p><p>“Well..,what do you like to do? Your favorite class? Do you have a boyfriend? Girlfriend?” He rests his elbows on the desk, clasping his hands together.</p><p>“Well... Defense against the dark arts is my favorite subject really.” The professor smiles widely, and Harry timidly smiles back before quickly looking back at the fan mail in his lap. “I play quidditch, I’m the seeker on my team, and I’m friends with Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.” The professor nods along. “And...no. I don’t have a girlfriend. Or boyfriend.”</p><p>Lockhart hums. “Well Harry, have you ever... thought about having one?” Harry looks up at him, confusion on his face. “I mean, have you ever thought about what it’s like to be....intimate with someone?”</p><p>“I..,,what do you mean, professor?” Harry wrings his hands together in his lap. “Why does it matter?”</p><p>“By intimate I mean...close, personal. Loving someone, <em>touching</em> someone.” He looks at Harry intently, patiently waiting for an answer. His eyes bore into him, making him squirm.</p><p>“Well...no, I suppose not.” Lockhart stands up from his desk, starting his pursuit over to the student’s chair.</p><p>“Intimacy is an important part of your...life, existence. It’s pure, raw <em>passion.</em>” Harry gulps as he stops in front of him. The professor rests his hands on the edge of his chair, leaning in. His breath fan’s over Harry’s face as he leans in, hovering over his lips. “Have you ever touched yourself Harry?” His breath hitches, sending a gust of air onto his cheek.</p><p>Harry looks away, startled. He closes his eyes, trying to overshadow the embarrassment he was feeling. “I don’t...no.” Harry cringes, the professor’s strong cologne taking over his senses. Lockhart reaches out a hand, resting it on his cheek. Turning his face back toward him, Harry’s eyes open once more.</p><p>“Well, that just won’t do, now will it?” Harry’s mouth snaps open and his eyes stare up at him, unable to speak. His hand trails down Harry’s chest, stopping at the belt around his waist. He starts to play with his trousers, slipping his finger inside and pulling Harry towards him.</p><p>“What are you-“ a hand comes up to rest on his mouth, shushing him. The hand near his belt untucks his shirt, slowly trailing up his chest. Harry pushes against the professor, trying to get away. “let me go,” He tightens his hold on Harry’s waist and growls. Harry shoves him away, turning around and stumbling for the door. He can <em>feel</em> his eyes on him as he leaves, the unrelenting stare breaking as the door slams behind him.</p><p>Once he leaves the classroom he runs, finding the nearest door to open and hide in. The brooms in the cupboard rattle as Harry squeezes in, shutting the door behind him. He places his hands on the wall, gasping for air.</p><p>A door in the distance creaks open and steps go down the hallway right towards Harry. “Oh god, oh god,” he covers his mouth, afraid to give himself away. The footsteps stop at the end of the hallway but do not venture farther. Slowly, they turn away, walking back to the classroom and shutting the door. He lets out a sigh of relief.</p><p>Harry sits there for a while, trying to wrap his head around what the <em>fuck</em> just happened. Emotions he can’t describe wash over him in waves, crippling him to a sobbing mess. His breath comes out in small gasps as he fights for air. He sits against the wall, grasping at his shirt sleeves. Once his tremors have slowed to a slight shake and the tears have dried, Harry picks himself up, tucking his shirt back in. He slowly opens the door, peeking out to check that the coast is clear.</p><p>“Mr.Potter!” Harry gasps,snapping his head towards the sound. He holds onto the door as the world starts to spin, a wave of dizziness washing over him. “What are you doing in there? The teachers have been searching for you for hours!” McGonagall yells. He flinches away, confused. <em>Have I really been gone that long?</em></p><p>“I was just, I was-“</p><p>“Silence, Mr.Potter. You gave Lockhart quite a scare when you ran off like that. What were you thinking just leaving like that? He is very upset with your behavior. Thirty points from Slytherin and four more detentions shall suffice.” McGonagall glares down at him.</p><p>“But I didn’t do anything-“</p><p>“Enough! Your head of house will be waiting for us in his office. Come along.” McGonagall turns, her robes swishing behind her. He sighs, exhaustion gripping at his senses. It takes everything he has to follow after her, the thought of a warm bed willing him on.</p><p>A knock sounds on the office door and Snape quickly ushers him inside. “Thank you, Minivera. Mr.Potter, sit.” Harry sinks into the plush chair behind his head of house’s desk, resting his head on his hand. “Where have you been? Explain.” He sits down in his own chair, leaning forward.</p><p>“I, well..” he stutters. <em>How do I explain this?</em></p><p>“Get on with it then. Tell me how you walked out on Lockhart in the middle of detention after picking a fight with him! I am quite disappointed with your behavior.” Snape sighed, rubbing his fingertips against his forehead.</p><p>“I….what?” The professor looks down at him, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t-“</p><p>“Don’t you dare lie to me, Mr.Potter.” He grinds out, anger and shame lacing his voice.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Harry looks down at his hands.</p><p>“I’m not the person to apologize to.” Harry runs his hands over his face, itching for something to do with his hands. He glances up and catches the professor’s gaze, his puffy, red-rimmed eyes looking into the deep black of Snape’s. The potions master quickly looks away. “It’s getting late. I assume you’ve been told about the extra detentions?” Harry nods, looking at his feet. “Good. Now, go off to your dorm and get some rest. You are dismissed.”</p><p>“Thank you sir.” Harry quickly gets up, opening the door from his office and heading over to the common room entrance. All he wanted was a small place to curl up and hide, preferably his bed. Pressing his wand against the thick stone, a whisper of <em>whisping pixies</em> fills the air and the stone opens, the warm air of the common room flooding into the hallway.</p><p>“Harry!” A body slams into him, as does the smell of fresh herbs and soft silk. Draco pulls back, looking worried. “Are you alright? You didn’t come back after detention. Snape said that you were missing. I thought something happened! Did you really punch Lockhart in the face?”</p><p>“So much for being subtle, Draco.” Blaise mutters, walking over to the fireplace. They all plop down onto the couch, basking in its warmth.</p><p>“So….what happened? Are you okay?” Draco looks over at him, his eyes blown wide.</p><p>“I… well, left my detention early, and I….fought with Lockhart. And no, I didn’t punch him.” He stated, still feeling dazed and uncoordinated.</p><p>“You don’t seem too sure. What were you arguing about?” Blaise questions.</p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay Harry?” Draco looks over at him, clearly concerned.</p><p>“I….yeah. I’m just tired.” <em>and confused...</em></p><p>“Let’s go to bed then. We can chat more in the morning.” Draco stands up, practically dragging Harry up the stairway and into their dorm. Harry plops down on his bed in his full outfit, not bothering to change. He kicks off his shoes and curls under the blankets, basking in its warmth.</p><p>The soft snores of his dorm mates usually send him right to sleep, but tonight he’s wide awake, his mind turning gears. <em>Why did he do that? Did I do something to make him think that I...no. It doesn’t make sense. I can’t go back to his class, I just can’t. He’s probably furious with me. God, I really fucked it all up, didn’t I?</em> His eyes start to water so he curls up on his side, looking out the window for a distraction. He falls into a fitful sleep, the faint smell of his professor’s cologne and his breath on his cheek fueling his strange dreams.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The first mistake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello my lovelies!! I’m so glad you’re all loving the story so far. Shout out to everyone who bookmarked, commented and left kudos!! It means a lot to know people are excited for the next chapter.</p><p>Warnings for this chapter: none</p><p>Tell me what you think on my tumblr!!:<br/>@ parker-bucky</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s been three days since his first dentention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three sleepless nights, days of skipped meals and anxiety. Harry’s body shivers under the cover and he grunts, his mind whirling. Moonlight shines through the lone window onto his bed, basking him in a soft, glowing light. He runs a shaky hand through his hair, coming back to reality. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry?” Draco’s sluggish voice mumbles from under the covers. “You okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, i’m okay. Sorry.” He sighs, crawling out of bed and to the bathroom. He knows Draco is worried about him, his eyes following Harry’s tired form to the bathroom, but he can’t seem to care. Glancing up at the mirror, he winces. Those nights of restless sleep are shown clear as day in the bags under his eyes, fatigue weighing his limbs down like a ton of bricks. After a forced shower, he sits on his bed, waiting for his friends to awake once more for breakfast. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Today is Thursday. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry’s heartbeat jumps at the thought. Feeling restless, he gets up, deciding to abandon his plans of eating breakfast with his friends to go for a walk around the lake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fresh, crisp air of September soothes his anxiety as he walks along the grassy shore, watching the sun rise over the black lake. Waves slowly ripple against the shore, slopping against his shoes. Harry chews on his nails as he contemplates his day to come. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Today is Thursday. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s shoulders sag at the thought. Sitting down on the soft grass, Harry rests his head on his palm. He picks and pulls at the grass, watching the thin blades fall through his fingers and get blown away in the wind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Harry rubs at his eyes, trying to will away the anxiety pooling in his stomach. With a loud sigh, he picks himself up off the ground, slowly walking back to the castle. He enters the great hall to find everyone already eating. A few people turn to stare, the great hall doors vacant except for his form. Keeping his eyes cast down he starts over to his table and friends, not feeling too hungry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Harry, where were you? We woke up and you were gone,” Blaise asks, taking a sip from his glass of pumpkin juice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I went for a walk.” Harry mumbles, pouring himself his own glass. He takes a small sip, savoring the taste. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should eat something.” Draco gestures towards the table, an array of fruits, eggs, bacon and toast sitting in front of him. The thought of food makes his stomach churn. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“M’not hungry.” Draco sighs, grabbing a piece of toast and putting it on Harry’s plate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have you eat Harry,” Draco looks at him with an accusing look, “unless you want Snape up your ass. You know how he gets.” Harry rolls his eyes, reaching down to nibble the corner off his toast. Glancing up at the staff table, he eyes the potions master as he drinks his morning cup of coffee, watching him fold up the daily prophet and toss it on the table. Harry wearily searches the staff table until they land on </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He quickly looks away, feeling the urge to barf up what little he’s eaten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry, are you sure you’re okay? You look I’ll. Maybe you should see Madame Pomfrey.” Harry glares at Draco before huffing, reaching over for another sip of pumpkin juice. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s Thursday.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blaise gives Draco the </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘shut the fuck up’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>look before getting up from his seat. “Cmon, it’s almost time for Defense.” Harry’s stomach drops at the thought</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The three boys climb down to the dungeons and into their dorm room, grabbing their books and parchment. Harry digs around in his trunk, searching for his bottle of ink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mate, where's your other robe? You smell nasty.” Blaise crinkles his nose in disgust. Harry looks away, feeling uneasy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I um, left it in Lockhart’s office when I left detention.” Harry finds a half-used ink bottle from last year and reaches for it, stacking it onto his supplies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re being so petty. You could’ve easily gone to his office to get it back, and of course, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>apologize.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Draco snorts. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>can’t believe you had the guts to pick a fight with a teacher, let alone that know-it-all Lockhart.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you just shut up for once?” Harry grinds out, pushing past them and storming out the door. He walks to defense on his own before stopping in front of the entrance, pausing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God fuck, it’s Thursday. It’s Thursday it’s Thursday it’s Thursday-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Draco and Blaise run up from behind him, finally catching up. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Draco sighs, running a hand through his hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-um,” Harry’s voice catches in his throat, his heart pumping. “It’s okay, really.” He digs his hands into his palms, willing down the anxiety. The two look at him for a moment before shrugging, entering the classroom in a flurry of robes. Harry soon follows, his eyes darting around in search of the professor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finds him sitting at his desk and he looks up, sending his trademark smile their way. Once he saw Harry his smile fell, a look he couldn’t describe growing onto his face. Harry sits in his seat, trying to hide away in his robe. Other students rushed past him to their own chairs, the classroom filling with giggling students. Harry clenches his eyes shut, his headache festering into a full-blown migraine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning everyone, I’m glad to see you back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of you.” He glances at Harry before continuing. “Today, we will be…” Lockhart’s voice slowly trails off as Harry blocks out the world, closing his eyes and succumbing to his migraine. He rests his head in his hand, trying to stay awake and fight off his fatigue. He rests for what feels like hours, his head in pure agony. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hand lands on his shoulder and he jumps, anxiety pooling in his stomach. “-rry? Harry. Are you alright?” His professor towers over him, the hand on his shoulder gripping it tightly. Harry quickly closes his eyes, the light pouring through the windows blinding him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not feeling well sir.” Draco says. The hand on his shoulder tightens just a fraction. “I told him to see Madam Pomfrey this morning but he refused.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see. Harry, why don’t I take you down to the hospital wing? You need to rest.” Harry opens his eyes in fear, the hand on his shoulder leaving to reach out to him, offering a hand up. He stands up on his own, wobbling on his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine sir, really I-“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense. Draco, I will be right back. Please make sure everyone is doing what they are supposed to.” He puts his hand on Harry’s back, leading him out the doorway. He tries to look back at his friends for help but he can’t move without the whole world spinning. They start their slow track down the hallway, his hand not leaving Harry’s side. It trails up and down as he rubs his back, making his back tingle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry, we need to talk.” He rests his hand on the nape of Harry's neck, slowing their pace to a small stroll. “About our detention, I’m so sorry for getting you in trouble. I didn’t think you’d want anyone to know about our...situation.” Harry turns his head, forcing himself to say something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything, </span>
  </em>
  <span>to tell him that it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a situation, that there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> between them, and that this</span>
  <em>
    <span> has</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a sick joke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I…” He gulps, the professor’s eyes trailing along his body. Harry stops walking and is almost pushed forward by the force around his neck. The hand squeezes, making him flinch and look up at his professor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright Harry,” he leans down towards him, “I do quite understand how you feel. It’s impossible </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to look at you. You’re so handsome Harry, did you know that?” He blushes, his robe growing hot around him from embarrassment. He backs away slightly, feeling uncomfortable with how close the Professor was. The hand around his neck falls to the small of his back, guiding him back down the hallway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like to see you again after dinner tonight, once this illness passes. Madame Pomfrey should be able to fix you up by then, hmm? She’s quite the wonder.” Lockhart laughs before entering the hospital wing, calling out for Madam Pomfrey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello Professor Lockhart, is everything alright?” She glances at Harry and he quickly looks away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry here is just feeling a little ill. Nothing a great potion can’t fix, right Harry?” He nods in agreement, the hand on his back trailing up to rest on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you go back to your class Professor? I can take him from here.” He nods, taking his hand away from Harry’s back. “Go sit down on one of the beds Harry, and we’ll figure out what’s wrong, alright?” Harry nods before stumbling to one of the beds, his feet not cooperating from lack of coordination. He sits down on the bed, letting out a huff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feel better soon Harry, I do hope to see you up and about tonight.” Lockhart flashes his dazzling smile before turning on his heel to walk out the door, his robes swishing slightly around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Poppy gives Harry a simple headache reliever potion, letting him lie down to sleep it off. “You can go off to your next class after lunch, if you wish. You’ll eat lunch in here.” He nods before curling up on the bed, trying to get some much needed rest. The thought of another detention makes his stomach churn. His eyes flutter closed as falls into a well-needed rest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry rubs sleep out of his eyes, reaching around the bed for his glasses. He finds them on the nightstand next to his bed, along with his lunch that Poppy left for him when he slept. Harry reaches over for the soup, feeling surprisingly hungry. After finishing his lunch, he sets his dishes back onto the nightstand and they disappear with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry dear, are you feeling up to going back to class?” He nods, sitting up from the bed and attempting to flatten his hair. “Your dorm mates dropped off your supplies when you were asleep.” She gestures to the chair by his bed, his potions kit and book resting in a pile. “Your other supplies from defense class were brought back to your dorm. I’ll write you a note for Professor Snape, I’m sure he’s worried about you.” She gives him a gentle smile before turning to her office to fill out a note for him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stands, grabbing his potions kit and book. After the much needed rest and headache reliever potion, he was feeling quite better. Madame Pomfrey walks out of the office, handing a slip of paper to him. “If you start to feel ill again, don’t hesitate to come back down, okay?” He nods, holding the piece of paper tightly in his hand. Harry sends a small smile her way before waving goodbye, starting his trek to the dungeons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry opens the door to the potions classroom, the cold air of the dungeons sending a slight chill down his spine. Students paid no attention to the black-haired boy entering the room, too busy with the hustle and bustle of potion making to notice. Draco and Blaise send him a wave as he walks towards Professor Snape’s desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here you go sir.” Harry winces at the scarchiness of his voice. Snape looks up, eyeing him for a moment before taking the note. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I assume you’re feeling better, Mr.Potter? I’m sure not eating this morning didn’t help.” A surprised look grows on Harry’s face. “Yes, I did notice, and don’t think I won’t notice again.” He gives Harry a small glare before jestering to his table. “Since you arrived late, you will not have enough time to complete your potion, so I will have to give zero. You may come in tonight to make up the points if you wish.” Harry nods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I um...have detention tonight.” The professor rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yes. If you weren’t such a bumbling idiot, you wouldn’t have to worry about such a predicament. I will tell Professor Lockhart to cut his detention short tonight so you may see me. You are dismissed.” Harry turns on his heel, a slight pep to his step. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shortened detention!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Harry, how are you feeling?” Draco ushers him to their table before returning to his potion. Blaise snorts at Draco’s motherly reaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Much better.” Harry smiles for what feels like the first time in forever. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe today won’t be so bad.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was, undoubtedly, one hundred percent incorrect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After reflecting on his day, he realized it could be worse. He could be with the Dursleys, locked in a cupboard and refused food. He could be fighting Voldemort for the Sorcerer's stone. Hell, he could be on the quidditch pitch and hit by a bludger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His afternoon was great, of course. He spent time with his friends, caught up on homework, and even went to see Hagrid. But then, everything utterly collapsed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry knew he could have left. He could have run away, made it </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or skipped detention and gone straight to bed. He would have been in trouble, of course, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>would be better than this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After his futile attempt to eat dinner, he gave up on his quest and substituted it to poking around his food. He knew his friends and Snape were watching him, but he could care less. There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>way he could eat anything else without getting positively sick. His stomach churned at the thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should see Madame Pomfrey again. You look absolutely dreadful.” Harry shook his head, his hand shaking as he reached for his glass of water. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. Just….nervous.” Harry shrugged, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nervous about what?” Draco prods, a concerned look on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Detention.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why? There’s nothing to be nervous about, Harry. He doesn’t seem angry with you at all. I’m sure it’ll be okay.” Hardy shrugged again, looking down at his plate. Draco sighed, reaching over and handing him a buttered roll. “At least eat this, please?” Harry took it bitterly, taking a bite into the soft bread. It tasted like sawdust. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner reached its end, and pure dread washed over Harry. His friends stood up and he followed suit, waving them goodbye in the hallway. At this moment, Harry had a choice. He could run to his friends, and skip out on detention. Or he could face it, be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>boy who lived. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His first mistake was going to that classroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The whole wizarding world was depending on him, Harry knew that. He knew he couldn’t give up, turn a blind eye and most importantly, back down. He had to prove to his friends, to </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that he was brave, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>strong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and that they could depend on him. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>compared to what he knew was coming. Yet, he was still upset. He was still </span>
  <em>
    <span>afraid.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew he shouldn’t be. He shouldn’t be afraid of Thursday’s detentions, of a man that was supposed to protect him, teach him, guide him through life</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yet, he couldn't walk through that door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stands in front of the defense classroom, winding up the courage to enter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop overreacting. Everything is fine. Suck it up and get in there, boy! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry winces at the thought of his uncle, and what he would say to him if he knew he was afraid. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pathetic. Weak. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry knew he was right. He pushes the door open, taking the first step inside. This is when he made his second mistake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t have walked through that door. He shouldn’t have sat down. He shouldn’t have drank the tea. He should have stopped when it didn’t taste right. Yet, he didn’t. He knows he was being stupid, irrational, naive, but he sat down and started sorting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should have listened to his gut. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I am SO sorry</p><p>Please leave a comment on what you think or message me on my tumblr, if really inspires me to keep going!!</p><p>Tumblr: parker-bucky</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Running</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello my lovelies!! Sorry for changing the update time oh you- life got in the way, but I’m back and ready to keep writing!!</p>
<p>Come say hi to me on tumblr, and tell me what you think! @parker-bucky</p>
<p>Tw: graphic sexual assault of a minor</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Do come in, Harry.” The professor waves his hand, gesturing for him to come inside. Harry’s footsteps echo across the floor as he walks to the chair. He sits down, trying not to squirm. “You don’t need to ask permission to come here, Harry. You may see me whenever you’d like.” He nods, planning on </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>accepting that offer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We will be sorting through more of my pictures and fan mail today. As you know, Professor Snape requested that our detention be cut short.” Harry twiddles his thumbs. “I kindly asked him to...postpone your makeup potion.” Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. “Sadly, there will be no such thing.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay sir.” Harry almost smiles at the thought. For once in his life he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>excited </span>
  </em>
  <span>to see Snape after class. Although the potions master is his head of house, he does not see him often, but rather has the prefects check in on the younger students instead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, call me Gilderoy.” Harry doesn’t respond but instead reaches for the new stack of mail on his desk, looking for something to do with his hands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They work in silence once more. Lockhart pours Harry a cup of tea and Harry accepts the concoction gratefully. He hadn’t had much to drink at dinner. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tea tasted, well, positively dreadful. It was the same bland herbal tea as always, but something about it was...off. He added more sugar to his tea, hoping to mask the taste. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fan mail was an assortment of photos, love letters and gifts left from swooning ladies. Photos were sent in to be autographed, and letters responded to. Harry continued to sort in silence, enjoying the quiet. The constant anxiety in his chest seemed to ebb away, and for just a moment, he thought everything was fine. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It certainly was not. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He first noticed the fatigue. His limbs felt heavy, his movements sluggish. He chopped it up to his lack of sleep and stress of missing class, and didn’t think much of it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry grabbed a photo off the desk to toss into the pile, but suddenly, he stopped. The picture was...odd. Come to think of it, these photos were quite strange. The photo in his hand was of his professor in a very….peculiar position. His shirt was off as he arched his back against the wall, his pants riding low on his hips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The more he sorted, the stranger they got. All of the photos were of Lockhart with no shirt, his hands running over his body. He was in strange positions, one from above on his back, another of him hovering over the camera, his hands supporting his weight around it. Harry reached for the next photo, the pit in his stomach growing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In this one, he laid only in his boxers, his legs spread out wide. He had a….tired look on his face. His pupils were dilated and you could see the sweat trailing down his forehead. Harry quickly put that one away, his cheeks blushing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His body grew hot, his eyelids becoming heavy. As Harry reached for his tea with an uncoordinated hand, knocking it over onto the desk. Lockhart looks up, a small smile on his face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright Harry?” He nods, reaching over for the next photo. His professor is completely naked, splayed out on a bed for all to see. Hardy blushes profusely, squirming in his seat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you like them?” Harry doesn’t respond. Lockhart’s eyes trail over his opened collar. “I took them for you.” He looks up at his Professor, his brows furrowed. Lockhart stands up, walking around to his chair and standing behind it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem quite flustered Harry.” He rests his hands on his shoulders, learning over them. “It’s normal to feel this way when you see my photos, it’s natural. I’m glad you like me Harry, I like you too.” He rubs his nose against Harry’s cheek. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s body freezes in place. He tries to speak, but the words come out as a mumbled mess. His brain feels cloudy and stuffed, his arms not cooperating with his commands. Lockhart reaches one hand for another photo, the other trailing down his chest. He unclasps the boy’s robe, slipping it off his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eih don,” he slurs, trying to push away. His head lolls back to rest on his professor’s chest, growing so heavy he could barely hold it up. Lockhart’s hand rests on his stomach, pulling him towards the back of the chair. Harry’s back arches at the tingling his fingertips leave in his wake. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Needy, are we?” He presses a wet kiss to Harry’s temple, trailing his lips down to his mouth. He bites Harry’s lip, his palm turning his head to look at another photo. The professor stands fully naked, a hand pumping his erection, his place morphed with pleasure. “I can’t wait to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry .” He rests the photo on Harry’s thigh, moving his hands up to unbutton his shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s eyes spring with tears. He can’t move, he can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>speak, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and everything is too hot. His professor’s cold fingers trail over his chest, making him shiver. Beads of sweat roll down his face and onto his neck, his body shaking uncontrollably. Lockhart moves in front of Harry’s chair, kneeling in front of him. Hands grip at his thighs and his head rolls to the side, watching as the photo on his leg falls to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh Merlin, you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>His face lurches forward to Harry’s lips, his tongue diving into his mouth. He turns his head to the side, trying to get away. The tongue trails down his neck, licking away his sweat and leaving but marks in its wake. Hands run up his thighs and undo his belt, the fly of his pants lowering. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No, please no. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry squirms in his seat as his hands grip his waist, nails digging into his flesh. “Gh,” he grunts out, the thought of kicking the professor quickly disappearing as his legs move like jelly. Lockhart puts a finger under his chin as he stands up once more, forcing him to watch Lockhart undress. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Buttons slowly slip out of their holes, the dress shirt dropping to the floor. He grabs Harry’s hands, splaying them across his chest. The professor grunts as the hands reach over his pecs, trailing over his nipples. Harry closes his eyes, blocking out the scene. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A hand slaps across his cheek. “Keep your eyes open.” Harry’s head springs up, his mouth opening, but no sound comes out. Lockhart sighs, dropping Harry’s hands to put his own around the boy’s cheeks, wiping away a stray tear that rolls down them. “I didn’t mean to scare you Harry, I’m sorry.” He fesses a gentle kiss to his lips, resting his forehead against his. “You will do as I say. Do I make myself clear?” Hardy quickly nods.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A gentle smile grows on Lockhart’s face. “Let me show you what’s next. Get down on your knees and take the rest of my clothes off.” The professor’s jaw is set tight and Harry obliges, scared of what could happen if he doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He reaches for his professor’s belt buckle, slowly letting it out of the loops. The zipper is tugged down along with his pants, falling to a pile on the floor. It takes a while to get off his boxers, as his hands won’t cooperate with his movements. He hesitates for a moment, looking up at his professor who gestures for him to continue. He slowly pulls down the briefs, Lockhart’s leaking cock springing free. Harry grimaces as his professor moans out, his hands reaching to grip tight onto the boy’s hair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You look so hot on your knees, begging for me.” His head spins as he shakes it left and right, his legs aching from holding himself up. The professor’s hips thrust towards his face, the head of his cock rubbing against his lips. “Open up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“N-mph,” he mumbles out, trying to crawl away. The grip on his hair tightens and he yelps. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I wanted to be kind to you Harry, but you leave me no choice.” He thrusts Harry’s head toward his cock, shoving it inside his mouth. Harry grunts, his hot head rubbing against his gums. He can taste the salt of pre-cum on his tongue. Lockhart lets out a low moan, thrusting deeper inside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re so beautiful baby, your lips stretched around my cock.” He pulls out before pushing back in quickly, making Harry gag and whine. “Oh fuck, Harry.” He continues to thrust, pushing Harry’s head forward to meet the pounding of his hips. He pulls away for a moment, a dribble of saliva trailing from his cock to Harry’s mouth. The boy gasps for air, his throat scratchy and raw. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re doing so well, Harry. Almost done now, I’m close.” He thrusts back in, hitting the back of Harry’s throat. The pace is brutal, making his eyes water and his nose run. “Baby, I’m gonna cum, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Lockhart pulls out of his mouth, jerking himself off a few times before cumming on Harry’s face. He moans loudly, the grip on the boy’s hair going slack. Harry slumps down to the floor, closing his eyes against the growing fatigue. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hands grip under Harry’s shoulders and he’s hoisted up onto the desk, his body leaning against his professors. A hand wipes away the hot liquid on his face, smearing it over his lips and forcing it into his mouth. He grunts at the fingers rubbing long his tongue, the taste bitter and uncomfortable. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you like it, Harry?” The fingers pull out of his mouth and he doesn’t respond, but instead closes his eyes, trying to fight off his fatigue. “It will wear off soon, my love. It was just a little something to help you get going. I know how hard it can be your first time.” Harry’s eyebrows furrow. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He spiked my tea!</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Spked m’ t’ea.” A hand runs through his messy hair, pushing it out of his face and lifting his chin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry if I hurt you Harry,” he runs a hand over his swollen lips. “but now you know, hmm? Just let me take care of you,” he lets go of Harry’s face and shrugs on his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. He then reaches for Harry’s briefs, playing with the waistband. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“ ‘o, no,” He slaps Lockhart’s hand away. “Don’ “</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure? You deserve to be pleasured, love.” He rubs his hands up Harry’s chest, leaning toward to press a sloppy kiss to his lips. Harry nods quickly, the fog in his head starting to clear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“ ‘m good, sir, really, Snape mus’ be lookin’ for me,” he mumbles, closing his eyes against his oncoming headache. The hands disappear for a moment, the rustle of clothing filling Harry’s ears. The hands land again on his shoulders, drifting down to starting to button it up his dress shirt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You did so well Harry,” he presses his finger into the bite mark on Harry’s neck, making Harry grunt. “We better get you situated, Professor Snape will be expecting you soon.” He presses a chast kiss on his lips before sliding his hand’s down to his waist, hoisting him off the desk. His legs wobble on the floor as he tries-and fails- to pull his pants on. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me help you,” hands trail down his legs, lifting up his ankles into the holes of his trousers. He hefts then around Harry’s waist, slowly zipping them up and pushing the button through the hole. His breath fans over Harry’s face and he grimaces at the smell. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He feels himself being pushed up against the desk, his shoes tied, belt fastened, and robe tossed over his shoulders. “Harry.” He looks up, feeling dazed out. “You mustn’t tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> about this.” The hand resting near his throat tightens, starting to cut off his air. Harry nods frantically, gasping out a cough. “Do I make myself clear?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, sir, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please-</span>
  </em>
  <span>“ The hand continues its hold for a moment before letting go, making him sound forward onto the awaiting body before him. He vaguely feels lips against his temple and a hand on his back as he’s led out of the room, his potions supplies in his hand. Hot breath fans over his ear, teeth reaching out to pull and bite at his earlobe. A nose presses  into his hair, a small voice whispering into his ear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll see you Sunday, Harry.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A knock rings out on the potion master’s door, making the man looking up from the stack of essays on his desk. He stands up, a quick glance at the clock confirming the time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>As incompetent as always.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He quickly opens the door, the young, black-haired boy lowering his fist from its spot in the air from knocking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Think you’re a bender of time, Mr.Potter? Do you not know how to read a clock?” Snape mumbles darkly, stepping aside to let him in. The boy says nothing. “Well? Got any witty remarks to respond with tonight?” Harry simply starts his potion, refusing to respond to him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Petty.” He mumbles under his breath, going to sit down at his desk once more. Harry starts preparing ingredients as his potion reaches a roaring boil, crunching, dicing and juicing out various plants and beetles. Snape looks down at his student’s essays, grabbing his red-inked grading quill and continuing his work. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The potions Professor has always been a very observant man. With a simple look, the former spy could detect any sense of fear, anxiety, and even illness in his students and coworkers. He was known for his good judgement, and although he detests any sort of emotion, especially his own, he could always sort out other’s emotions.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But, Harry Potter, he could not figure out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry Potter was, well, strange, to say the least. He was arrogant, selfish, and downright idiotic. But the Harry he was seeing now was quite different, and to put it lightly, he confused the shit out of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>After his sniding marks towards the boy’s character, he should have lashed out. Harry Potter would have yelled, thrown a fit. He would fuck up his potion, as always, and waste perfect ingredients. Harry Potter would then run off to those</span> <span>imbeciles he calls friends and whine about how unfair his life was. Snape almost snorts at the thought. But this wasn’t Harry Potter. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This Harry was quiet, reserved. He was obviously upset, enough so to shut out the world. All of the professor’s insults had gone right over his head, passed without a second thought. This Harry wasn’t loud, pretentious, impulsive. No, this Harry was </span>
  <em>
    <span>afraid. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Afraid of what, he could not tell. The tightness of his shoulders and his defensive stance reflect it well enough, not to mention his inability to meet the Professor’s eyes. He made no snide remarks, as if he was afraid to talk back. This, he knew, was so unlike Harry Potter. Harry Potter insulted, degraded, and put down others. He wouldn’t waste a chance like this to insult his least-favorite professor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He could be afraid of me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Severus thought, reaching over for a new dip of ink. He knew this wasn’t the case. If the boy were afraid of him, at least to this extent, he would have known by now. He’s been alone with the potions master enough times where it would have shown. Unlike Neville Longbottom, Harry doesn’t shy away from those who scare him. Harry’s a Slytherin, sly, cunning, he knows not to show his weakness. This means that he is afraid of something else, something </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Failing? Embarrassing himself? Maybe something happened with his friends? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He stands up, walking over to the boy’s potion’s station to check his progress. Surprisingly, the potion seemed more intact than his usual. “This potion may be salvageable.” Harry looked up at him for a moment before quickly turning away, grabbing his potion supplies and starting to clean up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s eyes were puffed up and red, presumably from hours of crying. His hand had a light shake to it, enough to be noticeable. Ashen, hollowed cheeks lined his face, his neck securely covered by his robe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without many options left, the cunning potions master resorted to the worst method imagionable: talking. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could very simply ask how Harry was doing, if he was alright. Snape was never too fond of emotions, and the fact that he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>asking </span>
  </em>
  <span>for someone else’s astounds him. But, it was his duty to make sure his slytherins were alright. He took note of Harry’s eating habits, planning on bothering him about it at a later time. Right now, he had other things on his plate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mr.Potter, you’re being awfully quiet.” Harry hums, knowing nothing good would come out of no response. “Is there something you wish to tell me?” Harry’s shoulders visibly tense. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jackpot. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry shakes his head in denial. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me guess, working with the Weasley twins on a prank for me? Don’t even think about it. You’ve broken enough rules, fighting with a teacher, being late to class. Are you that incompetent?” Snape snarls out and glares. Harry lets out a sniffle, startling the professor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Snape turned back to find green, watering eyes staring back at him. Hardy quickly grabs his things before storming out of the room, a sob strangling out of this throat. He knows he had no reason to be so harsh, but Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>reacts like that. This isn’t just a fight with his friends or simply a bad day. Something else was going on here, and the Potions Professor was determined to find out what. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>— </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After hearing Snape’s belittling insults, Harry finally snapped. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He walked down to the black lake once more, the water blending in with the darkness of the sky. He tosses his things to the grass and finally lets go. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry sobs and sobs, his breath coming out in short wheezes. He cries so hard he’s gasping, gripping at the grass on the ground for something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> to hold on to. He cried and yelled for the unfairness of his life, for his parents, the torment of the Dursley’s, his detentions, Snape’s loathing, </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of it.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He just wanted it to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He bangs his fists against the ground, snot dripping out of his nose and into his mouth. There’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> no one, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and there was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>he could do about it. This makes him cry harder, the thought of being alone ripping him to shreds. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I already am alone. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fear of facing Voldemort shrunk to a near speck in contrast to the fear was feeling now. No matter how hard he cried, the feeling wouldn’t go away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry resolves down to a shivering, tear-covered mess. He stomach feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>empty, </span>
  </em>
  <span>fear nagging at all of his senses, and although he’s tired, he knows he won’t be getting any rest tonight. As the black-haired boy attempts to get up and gather his things, the water from the lake laps up onto his shoes, soaking them. He lets out another strangled sob, pulling at his hair. His tear ducts have run out of water to give, and Harry’s mouth felt dry and chapped. He could still taste the cum in his mouth, making him gag up what little he had for dinner.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hardy rubs shaky hands against his eyes before reaching down to grab his things. He walks himself clumsily back to the castle and into the Slytherin common room, entering with the squeak of his shoes echoing down the hall. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Harry, we waited up for you.” Draco jumps up from his spot next to the fireplace to greet Harry but the boy simply pulls away, ignoring him and climbing up the stairs. “Harry?” No response comes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hardy reaches their shared dorm room and tosses on his comfiest clothes- Dudley’s old rags of an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. He climbs into bed, closing the curtains behind him. Harry casts a silencing spell, not wanting his dorm mates to hear him so upset. Curling up into the fetal position, Harry hugs his knees to his chest, crying himself to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Don’t forget to kudo and please leave a comment of your thoughts and feelings, they always make my day!!</p>
<p>Say hi to me on tumblr! @parker-bucky</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The blur</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello lovelies!! Thank you for sticking around to read my story, this chapter is a heart-wreancher, so grab a snack and some tissues!</p><p>Visit me on tumblr: @ Parker-bucky</p><p>Trigger warning: assault and attempted rape of a minor, bad self talk</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The days pass in a blur. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If you asked Harry two months ago what his second year of school would be like, he probably would have said a good one, one to remember. Well, it’s one to remember all right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry doesn’t even know how to feel anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every day is a living hell. Feeling exhausted, feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s all just a blur. Zoning out in class, the constant bouncing of his legs, curling his toes in his shoes and nails into his palms. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why hasn’t anyone noticed? Do they just not care? Have they moved on to a new friend, because they know theirs is fucked up? No one asks, no one cares. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He should have known this would happen</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He shouldn’t have let his guard down, let people </span>
  <em>
    <span>in, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>they would leave, walk away like everyone else has done-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Harry” </span>
  </em>
  <span>A voice jumps him out of his thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?” He mutters, stabbing his fork in the chicken on his plate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is everything all right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> No, everything is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>all right. He can’t eat, he can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep, </span>
  </em>
  <span>every walking moment of the day his body thrums with anxiety, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear. </span>
  </em>
  <span>What if someone found out? What if they knew how </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting </span>
  </em>
  <span>he was? Would he be expelled? His friends would </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and forced to go back to the hell hole of the Dursely’s, huddled in his cupboard, with a true reason to call him a </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knew it was true, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Freak freak freak-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Draco. Just tired.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One lame excuse after another. One more rejected hug, skipped meal, restless night. He doesn’t know if he can keep this up much longer. Every walking moment of the day is </span>
  <em>
    <span>exhausting. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Another detention tonight?” He nods, poking at the food on his plate. He can feel their eyes on him, but he can’t get himself to care. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They know how disgusting you are.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t let himself think. It just makes it worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dinner closes, and the Slytherin boys pick themselves up from the table, walking out of the great hall. Draco and Blaise wave him goodbye, but he doesn’t wave back. He takes the quickest route to the defense classroom, knowing what will happen if he’s late. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You know I have to punish you, Harry. I don’t like late students. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He enters through the door without a knock, storming over to his seat and sitting down. He keeps his eyes trained to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Harry.” He doesn’t respond. Lockhart waves his want towards the door, closing and locking it. “Not feeling well?” He shakes his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pouring a cup of tea, the professor shoves it towards Harry. “Drink, you know the drill.” He quickly downs the tea, cringing at the bad taste. He’ll never get used to that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How was your day?” Harry shrugs, his limbs growing heavy. Lockhart gets up, walking over to his seat. He roughly shoves his hands under his armpits, lifting him up onto the desk. He presses a quick kiss to his lips. Harry doesn’t kiss back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, love. I can make it better.” Hands push his robe off his shoulders, running down his back and scratching. Harry grunts, closing his eyes in discomfort. A sloppy kiss lands on his lips, a tongue pushing into his mouth. The older man groans out, moving his hands to unbutton Harry’s shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thinking back on this moment, this one of many, Harry knew he could have simply said no. But he didn’t. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t push away, he didn’t make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knew it wouldn’t do anything, so why even try? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let it happen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hands grip at his belt, hot breath fanning over his face and neck. Harry bites his lip, trying not to cry out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t we...try something new?” A tongue trails down his neck, licking over old bite marks. Harry grunts out, biting his tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that a yes?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lockhart quickly shoves his clothes off, his leaking cock springing up to hit his stomach. Harry’s trousers and briefs are pulled down, leaving him exposed. A hand presses against his chest, leaning him down and flat over the desk. The professor’s body drapes over him, the heavy weight pushing him down onto the hard surface.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lockhart shoves his tongue back into Harry’s mouth, tasting him. He simply kisses him for a while, his hands trailing up and down his chest. His fingers dig into Harry’s hips and he tries to lift his head to see what’s happening, but it’s too heavy to move. The tongue leaves his mouth and slowly licks down his body, swirling around his nipples. Harry lets out a breath, his body growing hot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like that, hmm?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>A grunt comes out instead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hand reaches down and grips at his cock, Harry closing his eyes tight to will away the heat pooling in his stomach. The other hand swirls under his body, pressing against his hole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry attempts to kick his feet in protest, but they only twitch in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Impatient?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lockhart’s eyes meet his and Harry frantically shakes his head, his eyes growing heavy. The professor’s hands suddenly stop, trailing up to grip at his waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you not want to?” Harry continues to shake his head, making him dizzy. “Okay, love. We can wait until next time. I promise you’ll like it. Why don’t we get you ready, at least? It won’t hurt as much if we start now.” His eyes blow wide as his glasses are taken off, his hips tugged down to the edge of the desk and his head shoved to the side. He groans out in discomfort, the ends of the desk brushing his tailbone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fingers are shoved in his mouth, lathering them in his saliva. He turns his head away and it smears his cheek, the substance leaving a cold trail on his face. The fingers trail down </span>
  <em>
    <span>there, </span>
  </em>
  <span>making him squirm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Relax, Harry. It will hurt if you don’t.” He tenses up as the pad of a finger pushes inside. His eyes start to tear up and he lets out a sob, his hands lightly gripping at the desk below him. The finger pushes fully inside and stops, letting him adjust. A hand wipes away his tears but Harry just cries harder, shutting his eyes tight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shh, Harry, love, it’s alright.” The finger starts to slowly move, adding to his discomfort. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ ‘lease, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry begs, arching his back and slamming his head down onto the desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“More?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>No. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He shakes his head frantically as another finger pushes in, making him groan out. His sobs grow loud and wet, his face drenched in tears and snot. He tries to tell him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but his ramblings go unnoticed under his tears. Maybe he did hear them, but he just ignored it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two fingers start to push in and out quickly, scissoring him and spreading him open. Heat pools in his stomach, his cries growing hysterical. His breath comes out in pants, making him choke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry, you need to quiet down.” The fingers don’t stop but instead push </span>
  <em>
    <span>harder, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as if searching for something. All it does is make him cry more. A hand covers his mouth, smothering his cries. “It will feel better soon, just let me find-“ Lockhart’s fingers push against something hard and pure pleasure rocks through Harry, making him shudder and cry out. “There it is.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fingers pound mercilessly across his prostate, making him see stars. He doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>likes </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, and it makes him feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>sick. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The desire pooling in his stomach tightens as a third finger is shoved inside. Harry cries out, arching his back. He moans against the hand on his mouth, one of his arms reaching to bat it away. The hand leaves his mouth to slam his wrists against the table, holding him in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You like that baby? Like it when I hold you down, looking at the marks I leave behind?” He twists his head back and forth, saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>no no no. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“St-</span>
  <em>
    <span>please.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He cries so hard the tears stop coming, his body running out of water to supply. The hand covers his mouth again as he cries out, </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging</span>
  </em>
  <span> him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God, fuck, I love it when you beg.” Lockhart’s body swoops over him, his face hovering above Harry’s. His fingers shove roughly against his prostate, one, two, </span>
  <em>
    <span>three, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Harry’s cumming, his back arching as he cries out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lockhart’s hand moves from his mouth and down to his erection, pumping quickly. His cum sprays across Harry’s stomach as he moans loudly, mixing with Harry’s release. His fingers pull out from inside the boy to swipe across the mess on his abdomen. Harry watches as he puts them in his mouth, swirling his tongue and rolling his head back at the taste.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hand falls from Harry's mouth and he gasps out for breath, his tears starting to subside. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry shuts his eyes tightly in shame. The professor leans back over Harry, his hands beside his head holding his body up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was amazing, Harry. You seemed to enjoy yourself.” One final tear leaks out of the corner of his eye, trailing down his cheek and onto the desk. A light, feathery kiss lands on his cheek, his nose rubbing against Harry’s face. “Open your eyes, Harry. It’s alright.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hand grabs at his chin, forcing him to look up. He opens his eyes to find Lockhart staring intently back at him, a smile on his face. Harry doesn’t smile back. The professor leans down and bites at his collarbone, leaving a fresh mark. His hands curl into Harry’s hair, pulling at it, making him grunt. A final kiss lands on his cheek before he pulls away, reaching down to pull on his clothes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry sits there for a moment, dumbfounded. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I liked it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Hands wrap around his waist, hoisting him up into a sitting position. The hands pull his clothes on, buttoning up his shirt and straightening his tie. He stands, pulling on his briefs and trousers. A small groan comes out, his back sore from the desk. Hands wrap again around his waist, a body pushing against his from behind. A nose is buried into his hair, a kiss landing on his forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re so beautiful, Harry, all </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry lets out a small breath, teeth nipping at his ear. The professor squeezes tight around his middle as the boy squirms, not letting go. Eventually the professor pulls away, grabbing Harry’s robe and handing it to him. He lays a final kiss to his cheek before guiding him to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry scrubs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He scrubs and scrubs and scrubs, but he can’t get the feeling of those </span>
  <em>
    <span>hands </span>
  </em>
  <span>touching him to</span>
  <em>
    <span> leave</span>
  </em>
  <span>, running over his body-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cranks the water to full heat, the hot water scalding his skin. He welcomes the feeling. The burning makes the hands disappear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looks down at his wrists, the black and blue hand-shaped bruises standing out against his pale skin. The coloring around his hips are even darker, and his stomach covered in moon-shaped crescents from thick nails digging into his skin. He scrubs and scrubs at the tainted flesh, trying to wash the bruises away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, his fingers prune and the water turns cold. Harry shuts off the faucet, leaning against the wall of the shower for a moment before climbing out, wrapping himself up in a towel. Water droplets fall from his hair onto his face, blurring his view. He can just make out the bite marks littering his skin, rubbed raw from his excessive scrubbing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry?” He jolts up at the voice outside the door. “Everything okay?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh yeah, Blaise, I’m fine, I’ll be out in a second!” He scrambles for his clothes, quickly pulling his pajama top over his head. His short-sleeved shirt doesn’t quite cover the bruises so he opts for the jumper hanging on the rack behind the door. It’s hot, too hot, but he can’t risk anyone seeing them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath before opening the door, his hair still dripping water onto his shoulders. He plasters a small smile on his face, shoving his glasses around his ears. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Took you long enough,” Blaise huffs, entering the bathroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Last minute studying?” Harry tosses his clothes onto his trunk, watching Draco sift through the textbook on his bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not exactly.” Draco mutters, tapping his fingers against his cheek. “How was detention?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry stiffens at the question. “Fine.” He tosses his dirty clothes into the hamper in the corner of the room, walking back to hang his robe onto the hook by the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Well, I’m looking into what happened to Filch’s cat.” Draco rests his hand on his palm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Petrification, right?” Blaise opens the door and sticks his head out, his voice muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Well, apparently there’s not a lot of creatures out there that can do this sort of thing.” He turns the page, skimming the next paragraph. “It seems like the potion brewed for the cure takes a while to make.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wonder what the Chamber of Secrets is.” Harry jumps up onto his bed, bouncing in the springs under him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blaise spits in the sink, rinsing his toothbrush. “The Chamber of Secrets is a secret chamber that Salazar Slytherin created. He said that only the true heir could open it, and whatever was inside would purge those who were unworthy of learning magic.” Harry hums in response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Everyone knows you’re the one to find Flinch’s cat. They probably think you did it.” Draco says, sitting up on the bed and tossing the book into his trunk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But I didn’t!” Harry exclaims, jumping up from the bed and tossing the pillow to the floor. “That’s crazy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We know you didn’t do it, but you do look incriminating. After last year, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Blaise flicks off the light in the dorm, walking over and curling into his bed. “Besides, Dumbledore believes you, right? That’s all that matters.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry crawls under the covers, laying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “I suppose you’re right.” He whispers, his limbs growing with fatigue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d like to be able to function tomorrow.” Draco mutters. Blaise chucks a pillow at his head, making Harry giggle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight.” Blaise sings out, turning on his side of the bed. Harry hugs a pillow close to his chest as he listens to his friend’s breathing even out. His eyes grow heavy, yet, he finds himself wide awake, his thoughts tumbling around in his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I liked it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>It makes him feel sick. </span><em><span>Disgusting.</span></em> <em><span>You’re disgusting. Imagine what people would say if they knew what you did. </span></em><span>His heart leaps up to his throat. </span><em><span>Why would anyone want to be around someone as disgusting as you? </span></em></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s arms curl tighter around his pillow, the bruises on his body crying out in protest. He lets out a grunt before shutting his eyes tightly, willing the thoughts to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>go away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You know what will happen in detention tomorrow. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry flinches at the thought. His legs spasm, his brain’s fight or flight kicking into gear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Run. Get out! Run run run-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shoves his head down on the pillow, forcing himself to calm down. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How do I fix this?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harry sits for a moment, contemplating. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get another detention! Tomorrow is Herbology and Potions, I’m sure I can manage to ruin someone’s day enough to get detention. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry smiles in triumph. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Avoiding the problem won’t make it go away. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He huffs at the reality, closing his eyes once more. His limbs grow heavy, his mind fogs, and then, he’s fast asleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Breakfast was uneventful. Harry, for once in his life, ate a full meal. His friends bugged him until he did so, of course, but still, it’s a feat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going for a walk.” Harry states, standing up with his books in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This close to class? You’ll probably be late.” Blaise points out, holding out his fork and swaying it around. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s the point.” He mumbles under his breath, walking out of the hall and down to the lake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He takes his time, strolling around the grounds and taking in the fresh air. Today is going to be a good day. Yes, he’ll probably get in big trouble for what he plans to do, and Harry </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting in trouble, being </span>
  <em>
    <span>punished-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, it’s all for a greater cause. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He waits until the sun has reached its peak before walking back into the school and down to the potions classroom, loudly slamming the door open on his way in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr.Potter, care to explain your absence?” Snape sends him a glare, watching as he struts over to his seat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope.” Harry plops down in his seat, tossing his books haphazardly onto the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Is the boy who lived above the rules of this school? I don’t tolerate such behavior,” The potions Professor crosses his arms over his chest and the room goes silent, the other students watching the exchange in interest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could say that.” Blaise slaps his arm, trying to get him to shut his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Detention, Mr.Potter, for your cheek and tardiness. Say another word and I will have you scrubbing cauldrons for a month.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gladly.” He mutters under his breath, getting his ingredients together to start the potion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snape strides up to his seat, signaling at the other students to shoo. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Potter. Don’t think I won’t hesitate to tell the other teachers about this.” Harry’s chest bubbles with anxiety. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well? Back to work, you idiots! Is Potter’s drama really </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>interesting?” Snape strides over to his desk, sitting down and glaring daggers at Harry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, mate?” Blaise slaps his arm in annoyance. “What was that about?” Harry shrugs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re insane, you know that?” Draco exclaims as he drops the next ingredient into the potion. “Is everything alright? Where were you?” Harry doesn’t respond. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope he doesn’t find out about this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry chews his nails worriedly, his anxiety climbing into his throat. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least I don’t have to go see him tonight. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This thought eases him, even if only a little. The thought of seeing </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>tonight makes him feel sick. At least, tonight, things will be different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Professor Snape paces around his office, deep in thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What was that little idiot up to this time? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Snape knows there’s more to this situation than meets the eye. But, the more he thinks, the more confused he gets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would he so suddenly burst out like that? He’s been awfully quiet in class already, so this is completely out of character for the boy, at least, the boy he is at the moment. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry Potter is arrogant, selfish and plain out rude, but now that Snape has seen him act this way, he knows it’s not true. This isn’t Harry Potter. This is Harry, a twelve year old boy with a secret to hide. A secret he plans to find out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A knock sounds on the door, startling him out of his thoughts. “Enter!” He shouts, the raven-haired boy walking through the door with a bounce to his step. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look awfully excited to be scrubbing caldrons.” Harry shrugs as he walks by and to the desk on the other side of the room piled with dirtied caldrons. “If you’re so keen to clean, it’s your lucky day. I have a whole pile of first-year caldrons piled up over there. You know what to do, now get to work.” He shews Harry off with his hand before retreating to his desk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The professor watches as Harry curls up his sleeves to clean the caldrons, not wanting to dirty them with the dried, gooey concoctions inside. His eyes widen at the dark bruises around his wrists. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is someone hurting him? </span>
  </em>
  <span>His chest bubbles with anger at the thought. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of confronting him, Snape just watches as he carefully scrubs out the caldrons, deep in thought. He studies more carefully, taking note of the bags under his eyes and his unnaturally high collar. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn’t eat much either, he’s all skin and bones.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mr.Potter.” Snape states from his desk, Harry looks up from the cauldron, a questioning look on his face. “Where were you this morning?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, I went for a walk on the grounds, and I guess I just lost track of time?” Snape leans back in his chair, raising his eyebrows. Harry quickly looks away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Likely.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>How do I go about this? Who is with Harry the most? If someone was hurting him, who?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snape rests his elbows on the desk, his chin in his hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What does this boy do? Well, he plays quidditch, but those bruises seem unlikely to come from such a horrid game. He sees the groundskeeper, Hagrid. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He has...detention, with that arrogant Lockhart. He couldn’t have-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, excuse me sir, I’m all finished.” Harry is standing in front of his desk, twiddling his thumbs behind his back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not done yet. I was going to have you clean out the storage cupboard but….” he trails off, trying to find a way to ask. “I’d like to ask you a few questions. Sit.” Harry pulls out the chair from across the desk, a confused look on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How often do you have detention with Professor Lockhart?” The boy visibly stiffens and quickly looks away, trying not to meet his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Twice a week, sir.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And when was the last time you saw him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yesterday...sir.” The boy’s voice shakes out. Snape sighs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This won’t be pleasant. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where did those bruises come from?” Harry’s eyes widen in shock, his hands shooting down to his pulled-up dress shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, um, it was an accident.” Harry mumbles out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“An accident? What kind of accident?” Snape pushes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s...I-“ he stammers. He pushes his hands under his thighs, sitting on them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry.” The boy looks up, looking the Professor head on, his eyes shining with tears. “Is there something you need to tell me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> And then, Harry snaps. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please tell me what you think in the comments, it makes me so happy to read people’s reactions!!</p><p>Visit me on tumblr: @ Parker-bucky</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Unbound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello lovelies!! I’m so happy you stuck around for the ending, there will be a part TWO coming out in the next week so keep on the lookout!! (I’m thinking a week from this update!!) More info will be in the notes at the end of the chapter   </p>
<p>Visit me on tumblr! @parker-bucky </p>
<p>Trigger warnings: panic attack, talk of sexual abuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Harry freezes</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s never felt such anxiety, such </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his entire life. Someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His chest squeezes tightly, his mind blurs, and then, he’s gone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He cries so hard he can’t see</span>
  <em>
    <span>, </span>
  </em>
  <span>his sobs strangling in his throat as it constructs for air. His lungs burn, there on</span>
  <em>
    <span> fire</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he gasps for air, his hands gripping and pulling at his hair, his toes curling in his shoes. Hands latch onto his shoulders and he flinches violently, throwing his hands out to hit the attacker. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No- </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t touch me-“ he gasps out, the tall, black-clad figure standing in front of him backing off. They disappear for a moment and Harry knows this is his chance to run. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He drags himself out of the chair, the world around him thrown into a dizzying swirl. He falls to the ground, his knees hitting roughly onto the stone floor. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get out get out get out! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry scrambles for the door but hands wrap around his waist, stopping him. He screams, thrashing around to throw off the attacker. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me go, let me go! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The hands tighten and he’s dragged to the floor, his hands being held behind his back. He squirms, the other hand coming towards his face. Something is pressed against his lips and he yanks his head away, avoiding the intake of the liquid. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I don’t want it! Don’t, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I don’t want it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please don’t hurt me.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harry sobs out, his words muddled as he cries in hysterics. The hold is released from his hands and he’s shoved against the attacker’s back, trapping his arms between their bodies. One hand grabs his chin as the other guides the vial to his mouth, shoving it inside and pouring it down his throat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry sputters and chokes on the concoction, pushing his feet to the floor and lifting up his body to get away. The hands release his mouth, the vial tossed half-hazardly onto the floor. Harry takes a gasping breath as his heart rate starts to slow, his lungs taking in its first breath of air. He lets out a few wheezes as he brings the air back into his lungs, the burning starting to subside. His tensed limbs relax, but his mind is still frantic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“...Professor?”</span> <span>hands around Harry’s waist slowly release, as if hesitant to let him go. His limbs drag on the floor, similar to the spiked tea. The thought of </span><em><span>him </span></em><span>makes Harry flinch away, turning quickly to face his Professor. </span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The pure worry on the Potion Master’s face makes Harry stop abruptly. He can see a small collection of scratches near his neck, presumably from the fighting earlier. “Harry?” Snape stares back, his eyebrows furrowed. Harry takes another gasp for breath, anxiety bubbling in his chest once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Po-Harry, you’re okay. It’s...you’re safe here.” Snape says slowly, as if unsure this was the right thing to say. Harry nodded along, running a hand over his face. “Has this happened before?” Harry nods, making his head spin. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay. I can’t-stay here.” Harry sits down on his bum, pulling his knees up to his chest. He shoves his head in between them, taking in a deep breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, that’s fine.” They sit in silence for a moment as Harry regains his breath, the burning in his lungs subsiding. He lifts his head up to find Snape staring at him intently, a blank look on his face. “Harry, we need to talk about this.” The boy sniffles, resting his forehead on his knees once more. “I want to help, Harry, but I can’t if you don’t let me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t tell you.” Harry shakes his head back and forth on his knees, his glasses pushing painfully against his face. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Why don’t I ask questions, then?” Harry nods, keeping himself curled up on the floor. He can hear Snape readjust himself, presumably to fix the ache of his tailbone from the floor. “Okay. Easy questions first. Did something happen?” Harry nods in confirmation. “Are you hurt?” Harry hesitates before nodding again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did someone hurt you Harry?” Harry lets out a sob and nods again. Snape crawls closer to the boy, observing the bruises on his arms. He starts to reach his hand out but decides against it, not wanting to scare the child. “Did this happen today?” No. “Did this happen yesterday?” Yes. “Has this happened before?” Harry nods quickly, his hand reaching up to wipe the tears and snot off his face. Snape conjures a handkerchief, slowly reaching out to give it to Harry. The boy looks up before hesitantly reaching back, quickly pulling away with it in his grasp. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who was it Harry?” He doesn’t respond. “A classmate? Bully?” Snape knows the answer, but is too afraid to believe it. When the boy says no, he continues to push. “A teacher?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Was it….Professor Lockhart?” Harry quickly nods, another sob climbing into his throat. He clutches the handkerchief tightly in his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bastard.” Snape swears under his breath, making Harry flinch. The professor sighs, rubbing his hands through his hair. “Look at me.” Harry peeks through the fringe covering his eyes, his glasses speckled with tears. “Did he hit you?” Harry doesn’t speak. “Did he…” his voice trails off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He- I just, I couldn’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>away-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he gasps out, closing his eyes in shame. Snape </span>
  <em>
    <span>growls, </span>
  </em>
  <span>crushing his fingers into fists. Harry hears him take a deep breath. “I,I-“ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god, he’s so mad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry slowly rocks back and forth, biting his lip and digging his nails into his skin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He knows how disgusting you are. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry, stop that you idiot, you’re hurting yourself.” The familiarity of the statement makes Harry regain some sense of control. Hands grab at his arms and pull them away from his legs, a tingly feeling growing on them. He looks over to find his arms littered with scratches and crescent shapes from his nails, blood pooling out of a few of them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t we fix you up? Follow me,” Snape stands up and reaches out his hand for Harry to take. Harry grabs it and he’s hoisted up, wobbling on his feet. An arm is thrown around his waist to support his weight and he’s hoisted along to a painting on the wall. Snape whispers something and the portrait opens to a small flat, Harry being pulled inside into a vast living room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The floor is the same cold stone of the dungeon but it feels warm on Harry’s feet, the heat comforting in comparison to the cold floor of the office. Off to the left is a small table with chairs, behind it a door leading to the kitchen. To the right is a couch and an armchair surrounding the fireplace, stacks of books covering the end tables on either side of the couch. Harry led over to sit on the couch, the professor leaning over him to grab the blanket tossed over the edge of it. He hands it to Harry before getting up, only to be stopped by the death grip on his robes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just going to the kitchen, right over there. I’ll be right back.” Harry nods, hesitantly letting go of his sleeve. Severus stands and quickly walks to the kitchen, opening a cupboard and grabbing two mugs. Harry looks to his left down the hallway, eyeing the ajar door to a dimly-lit room. Harry can see the rows of bookshelves, similar to the ones across from the table in the living room, lining the walls of the bedroom. Harry curls around the blanket, kicking off his shoes and drawing his feet up to his chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry goes back to rocking, the movement comforting. Holding himself and rocking back and forth made him feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it’s way less embarrassing than sucking his thumb or running to hide in a closet. Those were for emergencies only. He craved the feeling of his small, dark cupboard. There, he was safe. In his cupboard, no one could get him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry feels cushions move as Snape sits next to him, setting two mugs of hot chocolate onto the end table. “You’re safe here. No one can enter my quarters except me.” Harry lifts his head up to look at the professor, untangling himself from the blanket to reach out for his mug. Suddenly, he stops. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He spiked my tea, during detention.” Snape nods, picking up the mug. He takes a small sip out of it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“See? Nothing to fear,” the professor sets the mug in his hands. It’s hot around his palms and the first hesitant sip sends a pool of warmth through his body, making him sigh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit in silence for a while, drinking hot cocoa and staring into the fire. Eventually, Harry’s mug is taken from his hands, and he watches as Snape opens a jar of some sort of cream. “Bruise paste,” he mutters, reaching out to take one of Harry’s hands. He spreads the paste around his wrists and over the scratches on his arms, making the skin tingle. Harry fights the urge to run and hide as the professor’s hands run over his arms, checking for other marks. Snape’s fingers gently run over the purple bruises around his hands, checking for any breaks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have any more?” Harry nods, his cheeks growing hot. Snape immediately lets go, noticing his discomfort.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I…can I do it myself? I don’t like…” Snape nods, closing the lid on the paste and setting it onto the night stand. He snuggles his face out of view and into the blanket, feeling nervous. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, I’m going to go take care of this situation with the headmaster.” Harry stiffens. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell him anything you’ve told me, that stays between us. Understand?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry nods, pulling the blanket closer to his chest, clutching it tightly. Snape stands up, setting his mug on the side table. Harry’s hand shoots out for his robes once more as he starts to walk away, holding him in place. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please don’t go.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Snape stands still for a moment, bewildered, before sitting down next to Harry. “Okay. Only until you fall asleep.” He reaches for Harry’s glasses, slowly pulling them off and setting them on the table. The potions master stays stunned as the boy slowly uncurls on the couch, his head resting next to Snape’s thigh. Harry listens to his strong breaths as sleep overcomes him, his eyes fluttering closed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy was finally asleep. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Watching Harry sleep, to see him so </span>
  <em>
    <span>vulnerable, </span>
  </em>
  <span>makes Snape understand why people are so fond of him. He was just that; a boy. A boy who’s been through so much, seen things that a little boy should never have to see. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He understands now that Harry Potter is not what he seems. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knows he has always treated Harry...not so kindly. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>this? </span>
  </em>
  <span>For him not to see the signs is astounding. Many of his Slytherins came from bad homes, he could recognize abuse in a heartbeat. Did his hatred for the boy’s father really blind him so much? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He made a promise to Lily that night that he would protect the boy with his life. Looking down at the child beside him, he knows he has failed. The boy </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed </span>
  </em>
  <span>him, and he turned a blind eye. He belittled him, and told him off for his strange and rude behavior. Harry’s actions over the last two months was a clear sign that something was wrong, yet, he did nothing about it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But now, he could. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Snape sat up slowly, doing his best not to wake the boy. Harry stirs, making him freeze. “Go back to sleep, </span>
  <em>
    <span>piccolo</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Harry mumbles something and turns on his side, his face relaxing. Snape quietly walks to the door, grabbing his cloak off the hook by the door and walking out to his office. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His feet pound against the floor as he stocks up to the Defense Classroom. Snape forces himself to take a deep breath, not wanting to lose his temper. He politely knocks, listening to the shuffling inside as the man comes towards the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Professor Snape. How may I help you?” Snape steps aside and welcomes himself into the room, his cloak billowing behind him in a flurry of black. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re disgusting.” Snape seethes, clenching his jaw tight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me? Have I done something wrong?” The professor closes the door and crosses his arms over his chest, standing in a defensive position. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what you did. Harry is a boy!” He points his finger at Lockhart accusingly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry Potter? He’s nice, that one,” a small smile grows on his face, making Severus’ stomach churn. He waves his hands around as he speaks, starting to pace about the room. “Beautiful, really, young Harry. We’ve always had a...connection.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re pathetic. Don’t think you can get out of this, I’ll have you in Azkaban faster than you can say </span>
  <em>
    <span>Expelliarmus.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lockahrt’s wand flies out of his hand and to the floor, Snape quickly bending down to take it away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no right.” Lockhart stocks over, reaching out to grab Snape’s shirt collar. “You can’t tell me what’s right and what’s wrong, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Severus Snape. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, the boy practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>begged </span>
  </em>
  <span>for it.” Snape growls, putting his hands to Lockhart’s chest and pushing him to the ground. Snape towers over him, pushing his shoe onto his chest as he tries to get up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>you compare me to vermin like you,” he presses his foot down on his chest, making the professor gasp out in pain. “I may have been a death eater, but I don’t prey on innocent children.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Severus! What the bloody hell is going on here?” Minerva storms through the room, Albus and Filius following behind. He lifts his shoe off his chest but stays standing over him, trapping the man in between his legs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This </span>
  <em>
    <span>disgusting vermin </span>
  </em>
  <span>has been preying on students!” Snape growls out, clutching his wand tightly in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure, Severus?” Gilderoy looks up from his hold on the floor, flashing his dazzling smile. He moves to stand up but Severus stops him with his shoe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have done nothing! I’m being accused of something I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>do!” Gilderoy exclaims, waving his hands about wildly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh really? Would you </span>
  <em>
    <span>care </span>
  </em>
  <span>to explain why one of my Slytherins came to my office in hysterics, covered in bruises from where you held them down and </span>
  <em>
    <span>used </span>
  </em>
  <span>them?” Minerva and Filius gasp. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Who was the student?” Minerva questions, a firm glare on her face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry Potter.” Snape grumbles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It can’t be-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure, Severus?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is insane!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What did he do to him?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There must be some other explanation-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Enough!” Severus shouts, the voices coming to an abrupt halt. “Harry is fine, somewhere safe. I think </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gilderoy </span>
  </em>
  <span>can explain </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly </span>
  </em>
  <span>what he did to him, in court, of course.” Severus leans down and grasps at Lockhart’s shirt collar, hauling him to his feet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have done </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrong! The boy </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>it! Ask him yourself, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be touched!” Gilderoy shouts out, trying to fight out of the grasp around his collar. Snape bounds his arms behind his back, tossing him over to Albus. Gilderoy stumbles to the floor on the way but no one helps him up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Call the aurors, keep me posted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>let him out of your sight.” he shews his coworkers off as he storms out the door, his cape billowing after him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Disgusting. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s eyes flutter open at the sound of a creaking door. He freezes in place on the couch, his heart catching in his throat. He holds his breath, waiting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A soft voice filters from behind him. “Just me, it’s okay.” Harry’s shoulders sag and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” The boy questions. Snape walks towards the couch, his arms crossed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s taken care of. Lockhart is off to the aurors.” Harry nods in appreciation. “You can stay here tonight, if you’d like.” Harry instantly lays back down onto the couch, fighting the urge to put his fingers into his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll talk about this more in the morning. Get some rest,” when Snape turns away he instantly shoves his thumb into his mouth, reveling in the comfort. He’ll deal with the aftermath later. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he curls up on the couch, listening to the quiet shuffling from the bathroom and bedroom down the hall, Harry basks in the comfort he feels. He never thought he’d end up in anyone's personal quarters, especially Snape’s, but he feels oddly calm sitting on the old couch, wrapped up in a soft blanket next to the fire. Calmer than he’s felt in ages. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That small part of him refuses to believe that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His heart flutters at the thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re safe here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry almost calls out for Snape, but decides against it. He doesn’t want to bother him more, he’s already done so much.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t sleep?” Harry quickly yanks his finger from his mouth, embarrassed. Snape is dressed in his sleeping clothes, a simple white t-shirt and soft muggle pants. He says nothing about the wetness on his thumb. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Drink this,” Snape hands the boy an open vial of potion. “Dreamless sleep.” Harry sits up, grabbing for the vial and downing it in one sip. He hands it back, his brows furrowed. “I’ll let you be. I will check in with you later, okay?” Harry nods, lying back down on the couch and twists back towards the fire. He watches as Snape turns and walks towards his own room, leaving the door ajar. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The boy pushes his fingers back into his mouth, sucking quietly as fire’s flames flicker and crackle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why is he being so nice to me? Pity? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry tries to continue his thinking, but his thoughts start to melt together, becoming a muddled mess.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s eyes start to shift closed, his fingers slipping from his mouth and onto his chest. He hears more shuffling coming from somewhere far away, and he could have sworn he felt a small kiss land on his forehead, but if it was a dream, he’d like to stay believing that it wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re safe now, Harry. I won’t let anything happen to you, not again.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hoe you enjoyed the ending!! Part two will be about Harry’s struggle with ptsd and his fight to move forward. As always, please leave comments with your thoughts, feelings, and suggestions!! It always makes me smile to see all of the people following along with my writing.</p>
<p>Visit me on tumblr!: @parker-bucky</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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